The Self Portrait Inside the exhibition celebrating Black self portraiture

Exhibitions that celebrate and focus solely on artists of color are generally hard to come by. In recent years, however, we have seen an increasing number of blockbuster, all-Black shows in traditional, historic gallery settings. However, in their eagerness to showcase as many Black artists as possible, to remedy the rarity of seeing artists from marginalized communities featured in prestigious institutions, there’s a danger that the lack of space detracts from each artists’ individuality. Visitors don’t get to delve into the topic of their work with sufficient depth when the link between works is race as opposed to a shared discipline, artistic vision or ideology. “You’ve got to start with the work and then the rest comes naturally, but often when Black artists are thrown together you start with race how all the works sit together. So sometimes it doesn't fit,” she explains. But at HOME, race “will always be an element that contextualizes the work,” so Ronan says the strength in having ownership within arts spaces is that there’s room to ask further questions. “What do say about power, or the amount of care we give to others and not ourselves?”

She’s excited for people to now see the results of a project that has pushed many of these photographers out of their comfort zones. “Seeing all of these works sit together is really special. When do you ever see something so personal and powerful? When do we get to see so many portraits of Black women artists?” Ronan also contributed to the show, choosing to exhibit a triptych of her own images that illustrate her belief in “plurality in expression.” One of the images shows her balancing the photo books of Black women photographers she admires – a visual representation of other artists who have inspired her, creatively. Other photographers in the show chose images that would honor themes such as tradition or domesticity. We speak to the artists to see what they learned by stepping from behind the camera and presenting themselves to the world.

“Even though my camera has been a great way for me to document and tell stories, it’s also been something that I’ve often hidden behind.

Choosing to photograph myself in front of a mirror meant I really had to take the time to look at myself, open up conversations and discover parts of myself that I like. Photographing myself made me challenge thoughts I’ve had that have led me to exclude myself from things in the past. To be honest I’m still navigating, and how I see myself has been changing and probably will continue to shift over time.”

“I see myself as an individual who tries to live her life as best she can, given the boundaries of other people’s expectations.

was created such a long time ago . It came out of the Self-portrait Photography Group I started while working as the Education Coordinator at Photofusion in Brixton. The group was called ‘Creating the Subject’ and included some fantastic people such as Gina Glover and Rosy Martin. It was around the time that surveillance cameras were being introduced into the public realm in the UK, so it was about surveillance and the hypervigilance that one performs when constantly ‘othered.’”

“It's always much easier giving directions to a subject when trying to recreate the image in my mind. But when I became that subject, I was forced to let go of the past constructs I had formed about myself and capture who I was at that moment in time. It was no easy task.

Regardless of the connotations that are often assumed when it comes to Black women, I see myself as a human first and foremost who wears their skin color and gender with pride. I’m remembering mostly to see myself and not try and make myself smaller in order to lift up others.”

“I used Polaroids as it’s an instant moment frozen there and then, no edits. I thought: how do you select pictures that represent yourself? Can a person be summed up? I was feeling a lot of internal pressure, but I felt really comfortable being nude. When naked I feel good. I was in a space of mental chaos and physical comfort.

With all this going on in my little noggin, I realized I’ve been explaining myself for years to teachers, colleagues, friends and family in many different ways. Those days are done. Perception is individual, I will leave it to the viewer to pass their own judgement. I feel no need to correct them or insist upon a certain narrative, as the only idea of me that matters is my own. Turning the lens on myself made me see I’m enough for me. I’m beautiful.”

“It’s ironic because so much of my work focuses on Black women taking up space and shining brightly, while I certainly given myself the same courtesy. I have often felt immense angst towards my body. Self-acceptance doesn’t come naturally to me.

As a kid I was fascinated by romance, and it was always disappointing to see nearly every love interest in films that shaped so much of my vision look nothing like me. I feel called to tell stories where Black women are the main characters: intimate and delicate. I see our beauty, resilience, vulnerability and joy. I love the way we look, talk and exist in this world, and I will forever celebrate that.”

“I was in Sierra Leone when this shot was taken. I travelled there in October to go and visit my dad’s grave. Lockdown was implemented when he passed away over there and Islamic funerals happen straight away. Eventually I was able to go over there to really come to terms with what had happened, and I ended up contracting Typhoid fever.

I was hallucinating, hadn’t eaten in days and felt close to death. If anyone was going to capture what was going on with me it would have to be me. I was shaking as I pressed the shutter release, I’m surprised it was even in focus. This moment, I’m empty. I’ve lost my health and my father so I named it Tyvoid Fever. I’m trying to be as true to myself as I can. I aim to one day have a consistent sense of self, no matter who my audience is.”

“One thing I remember from Zimbabwe, my home country, is that all the women in my family would carry things like water on their heads. Once you balance it, you don’t really feel how heavy the thing you’re carrying is.

The women in my family are very religious, reserved, strong and hard-working and I see that in myself a lot, too. This fixed idea of Black womanhood is the strong Black woman and a part of me is like that – but I’m also vulnerable and feel pain. I don’t always have that thick skin that is expected of people. Having to always be that person is exhausting. This exhibition has allowed me to project that balance.”

“Deconstructing the gaze upon Black womanhood has been a collective and long journey. I believe we feel the pressures of teaching society how to view us – an act which is rather exhausting. I take responsibility for how I see myself. I truly believe surrounding yourself with sisters increases your self-awareness. Black women community groups allow us to dive into our super power, from loving our hair texture to our complexion.

This image of myself continues my narrative of nature being symbiotic with our anatomy. The photograph was taken in my back garden and I wanted to keep my home private, so I used a yellow backdrop to signify happiness.”

“I’m a multitude of things. That hasn’t always been acceptable or made sense to the people around me. I delve into different practices, and if one can’t contain an idea, I take that idea elsewhere. I’m a Black Muslim woman, also Somali. I’m a photographer, a poet.

Taking pictures of myself was how I approached photography. I played around in front of the camera, experimented with hijab styles and makeup. Those early sessions felt playful. There’s been a lot of sadness and change in the world, and it hasn’t made sense to stop and look at myself . My face has changed slightly, I’ve gained weight and lost it, but I’ve survived it all. The portrait shows that.”

“There’s a scientific concept called allotropy, which is the property of some chemical elements to exist in two or more different forms, in the same physical state. To me, it's very interesting to see myself through this prism, as it allows room for being one thing and also multiple things at the same time. I’m a combination of multiple identities coexisting: Black, biracial, woman of Congolese descent, from the diaspora, French, living in the UK...

I’ve been playing with collages and darkroom experimentation to illustrate this idea. Collaging was also a way of overcoming the discomfort with my own image, being able to rip it up and create it all again in a way that I could feel closer to how I see myself.”

“I am a Black creative girl living in London by herself. I try to photograph myself twice a year minimum and have done for the past three years. I dug deep into me. I did three different photoshoots: some in the bath, some in my living room. I’m usually loud and expressive with my hair and my photos have color, color, color – but I really wanted to strip it all the way back. It feels like it speaks for itself. It allowed me to think about what I want to say as a voice in a gallery – I’ve never had that space before.”

“My vision has always been that you can be whoever you want to be in this world…I am not your stereotype. It is that self-belief that has kept me going even in the tough times. But the self-portrait was a challenge! Originally I had planned to shoot myself in a studio, but that went out of the window when lockdown was extended. I knew that by shooting myself I would have to overcome how I perceived myself to be. I was not sure I wanted to go there. That is when I told myself, ‘There is your challenge, do it.’”